


The Mind of The Captive

by SongbirdAli



Category: Supernatural
Genre: 14x10, Castiel in Dean's Mind, M/M, Mention of Torture but no specifics, Mention of blood, Michael!Dean, Mind Meld
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-23
Updated: 2019-01-23
Packaged: 2019-10-14 17:00:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,294
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17512454
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SongbirdAli/pseuds/SongbirdAli
Summary: Castiel needs to find Dean within the confines of his mind now that Michael is under lock and key.  What will he find when he gets there and can he pull it off despite all of Michael's knowing glances and snide remarks.





	The Mind of The Captive

**Author's Note:**

> This is a reimagining of the "mind meld" from 14X10 with a Destiel twist. Please leave comments or drop a like below if you enjoy it. Thanks!

“It’s not Dean.  It’s Michael in Dean’s body.” Castiel keeps repeating these words over and over again in his head while he focuses his attention on the effervescent green eyes that have haunted his dreams for years.  Seated in front of what should be Dean, knees slotted together, he can feel his breath like the lightest feather on his face but for once he doesn’t want it. This thing is an abomination.

“You’ve always wanted to be in his head, haven’t you…Castiel.” The self-satisfied smirk on that face that belongs to Dean lights an inferno in the angel’s chest.  A bonfire of epic proportions that won’t die until Dean is here…with him here. His teeth grind together in a valiant effort not to backhand it off his face. He may be weaker but Michael is bound, however tentatively, by the cuffs.  Marring the face of the person he’s loved so completely is out of the question.

With a gentleness meant only for Dean, his palm opens and all but caresses the back of his head, just behind his ear. The sarcastic purr that comes from the usurper makes his angelic blood run cold.

“Come on Cas, come see what your 'friend' has been thinking.” Michael’s laugh sounds too close to Dean’s, it’s jarring. Something that used to make his heart race only makes his heart break.

“I will end you. In the most painful way I can imagine, I will end you for this.” The threat grinds from between clenched jaws as his eyes widen in an almost crazed stare. In an instant they slam shut as he focuses his attention on his entrance into Dean’s psyche.

His eyes open into an unsettling coal black stillness. It takes a few seconds to still his own anxious thoughts so he can try to hear Dean’s.  What starts as a very soft plea from somewhere in the ether turns into begging. Dean’s anguished voice, he’d know it anywhere. It was the voice that drug him from heaven to hell to cement a bond he didn’t know he needed.  The agony in that voice, even though it’s a far reaching memory, still curls an ache into his soul.

Castiel stills again, pushing that voice away he reaches for another, a mere second later he hears it.  A fervent prayer, shouted prayer. Full of anger and defeat, broken, and then the splintering of wood around a grunt of pain. He can’t see it but he can feel it.  The intense sorrow. The realization hits him like a kick to his gut, this was after Lucifer ran him through. He can’t see it because he was dead. Dean was broken over him. His emotions take off like a wild wind, searching for him.  Careening through memories until he hears something louder, more urgent than anything else. A whimper, calling out from the darkness.

“Cas? I know you can hear me.  I feel you. You’re right here, where are you?” Dean’s usual low tones are kicked up into a panicked anxious whine. As soon as he hears it, he can see him – curled into himself rocking as he hugs his knees to his heaving chest.  Eyes closed, though unnaturally so. Fear is etched across all of his features, from his furrowed brow to his white knuckles. Loss of control in small portions is tolerable for Dean, but this…this is the very vision of torture and Cas’ broken heart is shattered.

“Dean?” The quake of his sadness is barely contained behind the determination to save him. “Can you hear me?” Dean’s eyes don’t open but he stops rocking. A panicked stillness settles over his form as he waits, wondering if he’d really heard the angel’s voice.  Castiel fights the urge to run over to him purely to keep from delivering the shock of Dean’s life.

“Cas!” The relief is palpable. “Please god, tell me it’s really you. I can’t…I can’t take any more lies.” The tear that rolls across his freckled cheek fills the angel with an unholy rage. Rage at the pain he’s seeing and rage that Michael’s been using him to torture Dean.

“It’s me, I promise. I won’t hurt you.” Cas soothes with his words while inching toward him.  Dean moves slowly, arms outstretched, feeling around in the direction of the sound.

“Cas! Where are you?!” Just as the words leave his lips, their fingers touch.  Dean dissolves into tears, a shell of who he was – a seemingly broken man desperate for salvation. Cas threads his fingers between Dean’s shaking ones and pulls him close, wrapping his arms around him, allowing the other man to collapse into his arms. “I’m not going to survive this Cas, Michael will win.  I can’t fight any more.”

“Stop, Dean, I’m going to bring you home but I need you to fight.” Dean’s already shaking his head, and Cas is struck dumb by this person he barely knows. He’d given up completely and something didn’t seem right. “Dean?” Worry creased his brow as the name crossed his lips. For the first time he doubted whether Dean had it in him to fight back.

“Cas. You need to know. I…I never told you.” His closed lids, where glints of green should be, seem to search his savior’s face.  Castiel can see the eye roaming but the lid will not budge. He hasn’t moved his arms from the tight hold he has on what’s left of Dean, afraid if he lets him go he’ll think him gone. Dean’s fingers search the features of Cas’s face, a tender touch that he’s ached for, for so long but not like this.  “I didn’t know until I thought I’d never see you again. I won’t make it out of here and this is not likely to last, it never does, so I have to tell you…”

“Dean, no.  WE will get out of here. It’s not over.” Cas’s heart hammered in his chest somewhere between panic and relief.  He pulled Dean closer and buried his nose in his hair but something wasn’t right. He didn’t smell right. He’d longed to be this close for years and that familiar musk that is specifically Dean wasn’t there.  This wasn’t Dean. His arms dropped as if burned as he took steps backward to distance himself from this apparition. The smirking green eyed liar that faced him now was Michael in every sense. Castiel braced himself for an attack but it didn’t come.  What did come was a door, from the vast emptiness around them it appeared out of the blackness. Behind it could only be Dean. He was enraged and banging heavily from the other side.

“Disappointed Cas?” Michaels smug look made the bile rise in the angel’s throat. “Anxious to hear those three little words?” Cas glared as the pounding stopped behind the door.

“Cas?!  Can you hear me?  Dammit Michael, at least fight, you pansy ass!  Let me OUT!” Now that was Dean. Cas squared off and proceeded to take a beating from Michael, who he clearly could not begin to handle on his own.  

The imposter’s fist collided with Castiel’s face as a laugh ripped from his chest.  “Such a shame to bruise that mouth of yours Castiel. Surely there are lips you’re longing to kiss…”  Dripping with arrogance, Michael narrated every punch, every blood spray, taunting Dean with what he could not see, knowing the thought of Cas being beaten to a bloody mass would kill him slowly from the inside.  What Michael hadn’t thought about was the resolve of a man faced with his mortality and the loss of the one thing he loved more than himself.

“Lying in a pool of your own blood suits you Castiel." Michael worked to catch his breath sparing enough for a heartless laugh.  Behind the door, Dean was seething. His fists working, knuckles white and clenching against the anger burning in his gut. He backed up across the room, and threw himself at the door. The pure fury of his rage sprung the door and Dean landed like a cat on the prowl, eyes glued to his captor.  Michael barely flinched before steadying himself in preparation for this battle. He was confident he could force Dean back behind the door. The door of self loathing, the door that tells him he's not good enough, he's a burden, a problem. Dean couldn’t escape his feelings of inadequacy. That’s what gave Michael the upper hand all along.

Dean hesitated for just a second as he stared Michael down.  "If you touch Cas again..." before he could finish his thought his body launched itself at his carbon copy, they were a match blow for blow but Dean had a plan. He managed to connect more often than not, slowly inching the archangel back toward the open door.  Distracted by his arrogance, Michael continued to swing as Dean ducked and swerved, avoiding his fist all the while shuffling forward.

“I’ll admit, I didn’t expect you to free yourself Dean. I suppose I underestimated your lust for the Divine.” Michael’s eyes cut to Castiel splayed on the floor as he dodged another blow, sweeping Dean’s legs for good measure.  Dean slammed to the floor with a thud but rolled deftly to the side before leaping back to his feet.

“You don’t know anything about me, Michael. If you did, you would have never taken me up on my offer to begin with.  I’ll beat you, I always win.” Dean’s fist connected hard with the jut of a sharp jaw that was too familiar. Michael stumbled back and over the threshold of the cage that had held Dean only moments before. Before the archangel could stop him Dean slammed it shut, immediately throwing the lock, trapping Michael in a prison of his own making.  Michael raged and threw himself against it but it didn't budge, Dean's resolve was too strong.

Finally able to think, Dean spun and slid to his knees next to Cas. His body was battered and bruised, with a face that looked like it was used for target practice by a prize fighter.  Dean's heart ached as he pulled his angel's limp form into his arms. "Cas... Please Cas. Don't leave me now." His breath was so shallow, his frame so still. Dean shook him gently as the panic rose in his throat. "CAS! DON'T YOU DARE." His green eyes rose to glare into the blackness of what should be the heavens as a guttural moan of despair ripped from his chest. Burying his face into Cas' neck, he begged Cas not to leave him in hushed repetitive pleas. "Cas, please.  I've tried to do it but I can't be without you again, not again..."

Dean's tears ran over Castiel's scruffed neck, the salty wet heat stinging the abrasions on his skin. The angel moved slightly as a low gritty moan pushed it's way past his lips.  Dean's head shot up as he searched Castiel's face for a sign that he wasn’t imagining it. Cas’ brow furrowed and smoothed as his eyes blinked open. That familiar blue was the most beautiful it has ever been to Dean's eyes. "Cas?" He wiped some dirt away from his brow with a gentle sweep of his thumb before giving in to his need to be close.  Propping Cas' back into the vee of his thighs, he brushed his wild hair out of his bloodied face and stroked along his jaw. "Cas, please. I need to know you're in there."

"I'm here....I'm...." Cas struggled to turn his face toward Dean, unshed tears clouding his eyes.  Dean's eyes widened with worry as he studied the crinkles framing Cas' eyes, the ruggedness of his jaw, the creases in his forehead. "I love you, Dean." The words were a rush.  A softly spoken declaration of a love long held. Dean's jaw dropped open, his heart full and aching, so grateful.

The unspoken, spoken between them finally, Cas' battered hand palmed against Dean's cheek, his thumb stroking along the cheekbone he'd so longed to touch. Cas groaned with the effort to bring himself closer.  Dean stopped him with a look, whispering his name into the space between them before bowing his head, touching their noses together then resting his stubbled cheek against the other’s bloodied temple.

"Cas, I'm so sorry.  I don't know why I waited so long."  His lips brushed whisper soft against Cas' mouth, warm breath caressing bruised lips. Gentle moans escaped them both in turn as they hovered, sure of their desire but the tension of that line being crossed was palpable.

All of a sudden, Dean could feel himself being pulled away.  It started in his chest and the harder he held on to Cas, the more he felt it.  His fingers gripped tighter as everything faded to black and almost instantly back to color.  A beat of realization hit him when he realized he was back in the bunker staring into soft blue eyes, a hair's breadth away. The marks were gone, and his angel had never been more beautiful.  Freckled fingers slid into dark messy hair before pulling him in, their lips finally hitting their mark. Cas' large hands raked up Dean's back, each wrapped in the other, the very definition of possession. When their lips finally parted, tipping Cas' face up just the tiniest bit, pale green eyes glowed as they locked on that familiar sea of blue, Dean stroked absently at Cas' cheek as the words formed that he thought he’d never speak. "I love you too, Cas.  More than you could possibly know."

Sam clapped a smirking Jack on the shoulder with a smile and led him from the room. "It's about damn time."


End file.
